


The Long Way

by GuileandGall



Series: Violaceous Fury [8]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 11:29:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Policeman's Ball is always a great place to push the limits. Troy decides to surprise Furia after the stuffed-shirt affair. *Smut ahead--consider yourself warned!*</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Long Way

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: All the thanks in the world to Chyrstis for her help and suggestions.

**The Long Way**

**-1-**

For Chief Bradshaw, the waiting was dire. Relative darkness broken by the occasional flash of headlights as cars pulled out of the garage for those leaving the festivities. Then there was the awkward silence. Paulie had been Troy's right hand when he was with the Saints, and though his old friend had not gone so far as Johnny Gat tried to, the two of them had not parted on the most amicable of terms. But he was one of the people Furia trusted with the fact that she and Troy of them had started back up. So Troy and he came to an association that involved silent nodding and eye movements, though tonight talking had been required.

Bradshaw still was not sure quite how to classify it. Even after months of quiet little dinners at his place, or wherever they could manage to find time alone, just to try and reconnect, he still was not sure what precisely they were now. Sweeping his hand across his thigh, he straightened out a little wrinkle in his slacks. One thing he knew is that he still loved her, that he had never stopped.

When the engine finally started, Troy's heart jumped in his chest. He felt a little ridiculous. Deep down he knew Furia would have no issue with him cajoling his way into her limousine, nor would she mind him surprising her. But she might mind what he was planning.

 _God, that dress_ , he thought as the vehicle inched toward the carpeted exit where she was waiting. Bright red--to torture him she revealed after he asked her to dance--strapless and short enough to make the commissioner's wife gasp when Furia and her crew walked in the door. He spent most of dinner staring at the leader of the Saints as the older woman at his table would shift her conversational topic to the same target anytime Furia stood. The comments became heated and gasping the few times his lover had turned just so as to remove her long legs from beneath the safety of the table cloth; then she would glance over at their table and let her hand run down the curve of her calf. It was a calculated move that had ruffled the feathers or many of the wives and girlfriends at the event.

Her laughter bubbled through the air as the door opened. He did not know what had caused it, but it made him smile.

"I'm sure it will be fine Mr. Burns. Do tell your wife I hope she's feels better soon," Furia offered, in that placating voice she used to save for her aunt, as she stood in the open door of the limo.

His eyes swept over the curve of her hip, along the vertical rows of sparkling accents that decorated the four inches above the hem then down her bare legs. Troy shifted slightly, sitting just a little bit straighter when she turned. While there was a momentary hitch in her movement, Furia betrayed nothing when she slipped into the passenger area.

Once the car pulled away from the curb, she smirked at him. "How'd you get in here?"

"You'd be surprised how much power a badge still has in this town," Troy revealed, his fingers toying with the brim of the hat that was perched on his knee.

"Did you bribe my driver?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at him, but there was a playfulness to it that Troy knew too well.

"No."

"Then what'd you do to convince Paulie to let you in the back of my car?"

Troy shrugged one shoulder at her as he glanced toward the thick black glass that Paulie had raised after their quick conversation in the parking structure. "Threatened to run in his brother."

"You ran my driver's sheet?"

"No. I didn't need to run him. And I can't believe you managed to dig Paulie out of that hole he'd buried himself in."

Furia looked at him a little sideways. "You knew where he was."

It was not a question, nor was it an accusation; though it might as well have been and from anyone else it would have been. Troy shifted again, taking his hat in his hands and absently turning it in slow circle as he considered his response. "Helped him find it, actually," Troy revealed honestly, when he looked back at her.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as her smile widened. "You are some fucking cop."

"I don't know about all that, but I tried to take care of my friends as best as I could." They had this conversation before, though it had been about Johnny then and Bradshaw's role in getting the guards to ease back.

"And sneaking into my limo, where does that rate in the scheme of things?" There was a trace of her smile in her voice, warming the inflection just enough to assure him that there was only pleased surprise at his invasion of her privacy.

"I just needed to talk to you, while you weren't posturing for the press or the brass. Just get five real minutes, … with just you."

This revelation twisted the faint smile into a provocative smirk. "Only five minutes?" She asked in that deep honey-drenched trill that went right to his groin. "I remember you having much more stamina than that before you were Chief."

Her hand moved over his shoulder, then teased along his neck as she slid across the seat toward him. Troy already had the message typed, and pulled his phone out just long enough to hit send before she bit him on the ear. His jaw clinched as the sensation seemed to shoot down his neck followed quickly by a deep warmth that burned through him like a wild fire when she sucked at his earlobe.

"I still can't believe you showed up tonight," he breathed, holding tightly to his hat as her lips skimmed his jaw.

"Well the invitation was so pretty. And the note was a nice touch." There was a mischievousness in her eyes when she leaned away from him. The way she looked at him was that familiar calculating manner she took up when she was trying to make a decision. In a glance Bradshaw knew when the choice was made. The hem of the dress rose with the subtle wiggle of her hips, out of habit his hand went to her waist when she perched on his lap.

"This dress was a nice touch," he countered running his hands up the soft crimson fabric. "Don't think there was a soft dick in the room after you walked in."

She laughed lightly. "Good, that was the intention. Though I thought it was due to the dance."

Troy groaned as she reached between them and rubbed him firmly. "Yeah, well I should have known better than to give you the chance to do that to me."

"You played it off well enough."

"Liar."

Her laugh was pure and rang through his head. Every so often something would just remind him precisely how lucky he was, how he should not have this, how she should not still trust him; yet, she was still there.

"At least I let you keep your hat," she replied, leaning toward him.

The hat was quickly abandoned on the seat next to him, and Troy let his hands run up her thighs, thumbs sweeping beneath the edge of the sparkling hem. The entire outfit was strategic, show as much skin as possible without freaking out the commissioner's wife to the point that she would insist on the gang leader with deep pockets being removed.

Furia's lips met his, softly at first, in teasing little pecks that always made him ravenous. She continued that tactic until she got what she wanted. Troy slipped his hand behind her head and held her tightly as he took control of the kiss. The soft moan parted her lips offering an advantage he took. There was still a hint of sweetness on her lips, but from what he could not be certain.

As his grasp on her loosened, he dragged his fingertips lightly across her shoulder. Though he knew full well he did not need to, Troy lowered the zipper on the side of the dress. Furia looked down at him in that moment; it was his turn to cast a heated smirk at her as his hands tugged the bodice down. Her eyes did not leave his until his mouth joined his hands to tease the newly bared flesh.

With her head laid back, her hips danced against his lightly, while her fingers ran through his hair as she hugged him to her chest. Her hands on the side of his face told him when the teasing neared a breaking point. The kiss was demanding, ending with her sucking on his bottom lip before rewarding him with a sharp bite that punctuated the momentary switch. Her hand again slid between them, stoking his near painful arousal.

 

**-2-**

This was precisely the outcome she had been hoping for--him, alone, his hands on her, him wanting her. Though she had not been counting on finding him lounging in the back of her limo, tie undone with that hat perched on his knee; it was the most tempting offering she had been given in months. And she fully intended to savor such a gift. Her tongue teased at the shell of his ear, as her hands converged at his belt. She was quick but not quick enough. The minor power shift Furia had allowed seemed to be backfiring on her.

With one arm wrapping tightly around her waist, the chief maneuvered her in such a way that for the sake of self-preservation and balance her arms wrapped around his neck. The smirk and that telltale glint in his eye told her all she needed to know--she was not the only one looking for this type of outcome to the night.

Troy wrapped his lips around one of the nipples his firm hands had teased hard. Furia could not retaliate as she might normally because the angle at which he positioned her body freed him from her dexterous hands. While one fist curled in his lapel, her other hand threaded as best it could in his short hair, it was moments like these that she lamented the more professional grooming choices he had made in the past few years. She had always liked being able to exert a little gruff control when she needed a reprieve from his teasing.

Her fist opened and closed against the back of his head without finding good purchase. Despite not being able to guide him, Troy responded to her futile gesture. When he kissed his way to her other breast, she knew it was not a reprieve but just another log to throw on a fire he had set to blazing with the tango they had shared on the terrace. That dance had been much more alluring than the calm proper waltz they had shared on the parquet floor of the ballroom.

Rimmed in a deep green, his hazel eyes seemed to blaze as hot his tongue. It made her breathless and not a little dizzy. When her hand swept across his cheek she coiled toward him. Her own gasp broke the short heated kiss.

"My God Furia," he murmured when he dragged his finger over the sensitive flesh between her thighs a second time.

"The tango does that to me. But then you know that," she sighed. Furia shuddered against him as his thumb circled her clit.

"And here I thought it was just me." There was a libidinous note in his voice.

She grabbed the lapel of his jacket with both hands, when his finger slipped into her. Staring into his eyes it still took her a moment to respond. "And just who was my partner for that little exchange?"

His tongue peeked out from between his lips and flicked her nipple before he captured it between his teeth. The pace he set became demanding once a second digit joined the first--fingers moving deeply as his thumb made a thorough circuit. Troy seemed hell-bent on undoing her entirely.

"Qué rico, mi cielito," she moaned against his lips as her body moved against his hand.

 

**-3-**

Troy loved it when he drove her to Spanish. The boss knew how much he enjoyed hearing it, even if he had no idea what she was saying. For all he knew she was whispering engine specifications at him. Though he did know what _mi cielito_ meant, she had called him that enough times that he finally asked. And the fact that she still considered him her little piece of heaven struck him hard.

The sighs and moans mixed with her quickened breathing always did a number on him. He thoroughly enjoyed pushing her over the edge. And even though there was a very desperate part of him that just wanted to unzip and pull her onto him, he also wanted this--wanted to watch her.

Furia had stunned him from the moment he met her, and just kept doing it over and over again. She was beautiful, always had been. She was loyal, and took care of her own. There were few things about her he did not appreciate.

And he took great pleasure from pushing her, he held her at a precise angle to facilitate his teasing and keep her from being able to retaliate in kind. After spending most of the night hard, the ache was palpable and teetering at the precipice of painful. The more vocal she became the more he throbbed in response. His release was so close, but he held back because he wanted hers.

Her hands fisted in his jacket as her head fell back in a throaty moan. His grin widened as he felt her body tighten, but he did not stop. He nipped and kissed her breasts, his hand still moving, as Furia shuddered in his embrace.

 

**-4-**

"Goddamn you, Troy," she purred. He leaned back and pulled her with him. Furia stroked his temple as she smiled at him. "Tricky bastard."

"I learned from the best." Which was entirely the truth, they both took great enjoyment out of the other, and on occasion they traded off pushing one another's buttons.

"Very true," she agreed as she kissed him lightly.

When she rested her forehead against his, her fingers began slipping the buttons on his shirt free. In response Troy tugged at her dress. Once his shirt was undone she allowed him to lift the scant bunch of  crimson over her head.

When her hands converged on his belt, there was a coy look in her eyes that made him smile. "Now. I think it might be a good time for you to get your dick out and fuck me proper."

Troy laughed with that defiant glint in his eye as he tugged at his jacket. She pushed his dress shirt over his shoulders along with it. Furia undid his belt then slid onto the seat beside him to allow Bradshaw to finish the job. As he lifted his hips, tugging his pants and boxers down, her hand wrapped around his cock tightly.  His hiss was sharp and belied his extended state of arousal.

This was not the first time she had done this to him once on purpose--keeping him hard for hours in a situation where they both knew there was nothing he could do expect try not to let the everyone know he spent the entire night with a throbbing boner. Of course that night had ended similarly to this one. Though that car ride only managed to get three blocks before his hands between her thighs had almost caused them to crash.

Troy followed the gentle tug she gave him. When he leaned over her, she leaned up and giggled against his lips.

"What's so funny?" He asked in the tone that just melted her.

"Remember the last time you spent a night in public hard?"--the mischievous smirk told her he did--"This go around seems to be going a little better."

"It certainly is." He held her lips to his, as she slipped a condom on him. Furia had every intention of either fucking him at the ball or after. Troy Bradshaw in a suit had always done a number on her, she figured a tux would just magnify her reaction.

"Is this like a do-over?" she asked.

He laughed lightly then scrapped his teeth lightly across her jugular. "Didn't intend it as such, but it seems to be going a lot better than that haphazard attempt in the front seat of that Voxel."

"Yeah, well, there's a lot to be said for not having a gear shift jabbing you in the hip."

His hands slid up her ribs, drawing her toward him as he pressed into her. His kiss was intense and Furia's attention was wholly devoted to him as her lover set a languid pace. She barely noticed that the ride was taking much longer than it should have. She was oblivious to the change in the sound of the tires on the roadway, as the high pitched whine of the expressway replaced the traffic noise of downtown. The ratcheting sound of a big rig's jake brakes clued her in. Furia stiffened and groped for the pistol she had stowed before the ball.

"It's fine," Troy assured her, clasping her searching hand in his. "I texted Paulie when you didn't seem to mind the unexpected intrusion. He is finding the longest route possible."

"You clever boy."

"I tried to convince him just to drive to the outlook and disappear, but he refused to just walk off. He said you'd kill him if he left," Troy explained kissing across her shoulders and up her neck. "So he suggested the long way and loud music."

Paulie became her de facto driver and bodyguard on Pierce's insistence after the first few stalkers cropped up; her lieutenant had lectured her that breaking limbs or facial bones would be too much at that fragile stage in their media reimagining, or some such bullshit. Regardless, Furia was not sure how she felt about her the man she and Troy both knew being in on Bradshaws plot and sitting not ten feet from the boss as she got royally and literally fucked by the Chief of Police. But Troy's tongue plunging into her mouth distracted her. Feeling him inside her served to wipe the thought of Paulie and his proximity from her mind rather thoroughly.

For Furia these rare stolen moments with Troy were something she savored and she poured all her attention and effort into him when they got them. She had no doubt that the same was true of her lover. In fact she was almost certain of it because of the great strides Troy always seemed to take to ensure she was sated.

Of course, to some extent it had always been like that for the two of them. They had been together for months before anyone learned about it. And that was precisely the case; Johnny figured it out and mentioned something to Troy. But they had always kept everyone in the dark, stealing time. And even then the two of them poured their energy into one another. That night in the limo, like the night back before everything went sideways on her when she had pushed him to a near frenzy, he still managed to peak her again, before succumbing.

"Come home with me tonight," she whispered breathlessly against his throat between lingering kisses as she held onto him tightly.

Troy froze, leaning back and looking down at her in disbelief. She was sure she knew what he was thinking. The penthouse was a circus. The press camped all over that building. Patrol cars with lights blazing were a regular decoration for the front entrance, because the Stilwater PD was regularly fielding calls from both the Saints and the building security to pick up trespassers in various states of consciousness and blood loss. Then on top of all that, there were her guys.

"I don't think that I'd get three steps before someone pulled a gun on me."

"I don't mean the penthouse. I mean _my place_ ," she replied, as her fingers danced along the back of his neck.

His brow furrowed as he retreated. There was no surprise for her when he grabbed his hastily discarded clothes and pulled his boxers and slacks back on at the same time. He never did like thinking in the nude.

Furia giggled lightly at him.

"You're people really think I live in that penthouse?" She shook her head as she moved toward him. "Your guys need to do a little more homework. But then again even my crew doesn't know, just Johnny, Pierce, Shaundi, and Paulie," she explained with a gesture of her chin toward the window.

Troy had that deer-in-headlights look. They almost always met at his place. Occasionally, early on, he had come to her little basement apartment with take out, but that stopped pretty quickly after a noise complaint from the elderly lady who lived upstairs. Furia ran her thumb over his forehead which was crinkled deeply in contemplation. She wanted this--him. And the sudden idea to steal a few days felt perfect until she had said it out loud.

She draped an arm over his shoulder and planted her chin on it. Furia watched him while she ran her fingers through the chestnut hair that spanned his chest. Like so many other things about each of them and their lives, the difference in his body and in her own reminded her that things were no longer the way they had been. She still loved him, but not in the same way she had. Everything between them was measured now, more difficult, more distant. Before tonight she had not spent more than five minutes with him in two weeks. They talked regularly, but it was not like before when he seemed to always be there even if she did not want him involved.

Turning her gaze to the nonsensical path her fingers were tracing across the softer landscape of his chest, the silence became grating. "It's Friday. It’s the weekend. You don't _have_ to go in. You could tell dispatch you had something personal come up. We could disappear for a few days. I'll have Paulie tell the boys he dropped me at the airport with a message that I'll be back next week." The entire time she laid out the plan that just flew into her head, her hand moved lazily.

"What do you say, Chief?" she asked, looking up at him again.

Troy's gaze met hers again, and when the smile creased the corners of his eyes, she felt her own smile bloom along with a steady warm feeling. His eyes searched hers for a moment. "That sounds like a hell of an idea."

She squealed, part of her was sure he was going to say no. So when he surprised her, for the second time that night, Furia wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, kissing him hard. His relaxed laughter soothed her nerves as she loosened her grip on him.

"Do you need help with your dress?" he asked sweetly with a tender look that suggested he was looking forward to the possibility of the weekend as much as she was.

"Probably," she replied.

"Which reminds me," he said and tucked his hand in his pocket. "I believe these are yours."

Furia closed his hand back around the red lace that was the same shade as her dress. "No, those are for you."

He chuckled but didn't argue. He just slipped them back into the pocket of his trousers, where he had discovered them earlier in the evening. She knew his penchant for stuffing his hands in his pockets and Furia had made certain that every time he did so that night an errant thought of her, and the fact that she was wandering around the Policeman's Ball without them, would scamper through his head.

Once she was put back together adequately, Furia lowered the blacked out window just enough to tell Paulie about her change of plans.

"You sure, Boss?" There was a note of concern in his voice.

She looked over at Troy, who glanced over at her while buttoning his shirt. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"You got it, Boss."


End file.
